


puppy love (alternatively- sherlock looses at tug of war)

by rory_kent



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, But only a little, Corgis, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Maybe A Little Plot, Missing Scene, Patriotism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Puppy Love, Queen Elizabeth II - Freeform, Semi-Public Sex, Sherlock's sheet, Snogging, puppies!, s2e1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rory_kent/pseuds/rory_kent
Summary: So you're gonna tell me that in ASiB, Her Majesty's puppers DIDN'T rip off Sherlock's sheet so John and Sherlock could have a snog in a closet???
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	puppy love (alternatively- sherlock looses at tug of war)

**Author's Note:**

> Monty died in September of 2012, so this is really a tribute to him, bc he was and always will be my favourite member of the Royal Family.
> 
> Rest In Peace, Monty

^HRH Monty Mountbatten Windsor

"So for GODSAKE! Put your clothes on!" 

Sherlock was now facing a much larger problem than his flatmate, brother, and a stranger seeing his naked arse. No, _now_ he was in a hallway, and being attacked by a pack of rabid animals. The Napoleon Complex was not new to him and hardly required any further evidence(*cough* JOHN!), but these compact cattle hearding beasts were the icing on the cake to shove down Mycroft's throat. A gaggle of corgis were assaulting him, one nipping at his heel, the other two tugging hard at the sheet wrapped around his waist. He stood barefoot on the plush, ornate carpet and this was really _not_ the time. 

"Let go of my sheet!" He yanked at the fabric, trying to maintain his modesty, "Fuck! Let go!" He growled, but the leader seemed to only growl back. 

"BARK! BARK bark bark bark bark!"

"well fuck you too," Sherlock snarled, tugging with all his might, so alarmed that he was currently being outperformed by midget lapdogs. Suddenly, a horrible, terrible ripping noise echoed through the grand room and Sherlock yelped as he tumbled backwards, his sheet now being ripped to shreds by viscous canine teeth. "I'm telling your mother about this, young man, and don't you forget it," Sherlock wagged his finger at the largest dog who only shook his head vigorously, shredding the 400 thread count Egyptian cotton. Speaking of mummy...

"Mr. Holmes!" Came a throaty posh cry from down the hall and Sherlock threw his head back, leaning up on his elbows and letting out a rather dramatic sigh, as two kitten heels labouriously stomped nearer. "Sherlock what is this mess? Monty, Holly, Willow, let him go!" The puppers immediately dropped his sheet and ran around their owners ankles before returning to the naked detective and licking at his face. 

"They started it!" He paused, pushing a rather rambunctious Monty off of his face, "...Ma'am," Sherlock groaned as the dogs showered him with love and made no move to cover himself in front of his Queen. She was unimpressed to say the least. 

"Put your clothes on, that's an order," She grasped her purse and glared at him, "don't make me knight you,"

"I'd like to see you try," Sherlock stood and scooped up his pile of clothes before begrudgingly bowing his head. The Queen only smirked as she pulled him close for a kiss. Sherlock's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he returned it. 

"You really could have just texted me, ma'am,"

"Where's the fun in that?" Sherlock grumbled and crossed his arms, still quite naked. 

"John's enjoying himself I guess,"

"The _blogger_?" She poked his side and Sherlock rolled his eyes. 

"You could say that," Sherlock eyed the door where John and Mycroft were no doubt sharing laughs about his nakedness. 

"Well, I do love weddings, you know, and children," 

"And here I was thinking you had a lorry full of them, lining their pockets taxpayer money and whatnot," He deadpanned and she raised her eyebrows before swatting at him with her handbag. 

"Go on and get dressed, young man, and I mean it, Knight Grand Cross if you're not careful" She turned and moved away, the puppies nipping and lapping at Sherlock's naked ankles. 

"Sherlock! Christ!" John cried and Sherlock grinned. "Oh my gawd, they're real," He got down on his knees and pet Willow's ears, her floofy little tail shaking as she hopped up on his knee to kiss his chin and face, "Oi! Not my ears!" John blushed as he was attacked with puppy love. "Sherlock! Where's your sheet?" John whisper-shouted, in that wretched habit of his to state clear facts out loud, "What if someone sees you?"

"Well you've seen me, haven't you?" Sherlock grumbled dangerously low, locking eyes with John, his baby blues shimmering with excitement. John licked his lips, eyes raking over Sherlock's lean and athletic form. 

"'Fraid so," John mumbled as he got up off his haunches and approached his stark naked flatmate, each step bouncing with nerves and excitement. "We should probably tuck you away in a supply closet, you know," John swallowed, "N'case Her Majesty comes round and sees you naked as the day you were born," He grinned, standing so close that Sherlock could smell the jam from his toast. Apricot. Bold choice for a tuesday. Sherlock's lips turned into a smile and John reached a hand down to squeeze his arse. 

"I don't think she'd mind,"

If only John knew. 

* * *

Sherlock moaned as John pressed him against the wall of the supply closet, some silver candlesticks clattering to the floor. Sherlock's curls flopped back against his neck as he let out a breathy cry, John's hands roaming his naked body with medical precision, delicate and firm and callused and soft and- oh! He twisted Sherlock's left nipple with a punishing snap, and Sherlock keened. 

"Jawn!" 

"Sherlock, this, I mean, _this_ is the most ridiculous thing I've ever done, I rescind all previous statements."

"What? Fucking in Buckingham Palace?"

"No, this shirt with these trousers. What did you think I meant, genius?" Sherlock grumbled. 

"Christ, just fuck me, John, and get on with it," 

" _Sherlock,_ I'm not going to 'get on with it'," John unzipped his trousers, tugging them down to his knees as he pulled them both down to the floor, straddling Sherlock and grasping his face with both hands as their teeth clacked together awkwardly, their limbs shuffling before Sherlock was finally lying flat and John was on his knees, their erections brushing together with electric sparks. Sherlock let out a whine, pushing his hips up and grinding them together. 

"God Sherlock, _Christ_ , you should be glad I'm an anti-monarchist," John breathed as he pressed his hand onto Sherlock's hip, wrapping his fingers around their cocks, just the slightest tip of his fingernails scratching across Sherlock's shaft, leaving the paler man a trembling mess, his legs twitching beneath John's denim-clad thighs. 

"Mm..Oh God...Jawn, you socialist," Sherlock whimpered, eyes shut tight as John wrenched his wrist, a wave of pleasure rolling down his spine as he curled his back, eyes shut tight. Sherlock shuddered, body spasming as he came, sagging in relief and ecstasy, tummy and chest covered in sticky cream, and he fluttered his eyelashes and gave John a sloppy kiss. 

"Alright, posh boy, on your knees," John whispered with a grin, still achingly hard. Sherlock bounched up onto his knees, still sated and glowing, wrapping his lips around John's cock, suckling and sucking with horrible slapping noises. "Oh yes, good lad, just like that," Sherlock bobbed, lapping his tongue out around John's bullocks as John's fingers tangled into his hair, cobalt eyes flickering with a fiery darkness. Sherlock caught eye contact, swallowing a few times, before a lovely idea came into his head. It was so good to be a genius sometimes. He began to hum, sending delicious vibrations through John.

"Christ! Oh Christ, bloody hell Sherlock," John keened, grasp tightening in his curls. John was just about there...like going up the front half of a rollercoaster..."Sherlock you can't seriously be humming _God Save The Queen,"_

Sherlock didn't reply, only barely scratching his teeth along, and John yelped, shoving himself down Sherlock's hot tight throat before coming like a freight train, (fittingly just as Sherlock reached "...happy and glorious,") and whispering Sherlock's name. Sherlock stopped his tune and let John's now limp cock leave his lips with a lurid _plop._ John was riding out his high when he jumped, there was someone at the door. His eyes flashed with fear but Sherlock only grinned and stood, pulling on his pants and trousers before he opened the door, the hallway empty, before looking down to see a gaggle of corgi's, butts wriggling and tongues panting. 

"What do you want?" Sherlock said quite seriously, kneeling to look them in the eyes, and the lead one barked a reponse before jumping into the closet and licking his face. Sherlock blushed and smiled, petting him between the ears and struggling to pull his black button down over his shoulders, buttoning them with a peeved expression as his ears continued getting kisses. He looked up at John and rolled his eyes, as if he were embarrassed by the puppers attention. 

"Come on, love, let's have tea, I'm thirsty," John panted, pulling his black coat on and straightening his shirt before fluffing his hair. Sherlock grinned mischievously and pulled his jacket over his shoulders, buttoning it like he hadn't just gobbled his flatmate off in a supply closet. 

"See what the fuss is about I suppose," He smiled and John pressed a kiss to his lips before they made their way back to Mycroft to hear about the case. 

* * *

"It's to do with sex," Mycroft leered and Sherlock's skin flared a bit pink, his hair doing that lovely curly sides thing and John could only watch with silent delight, trying his damn best not to smile at Sherlock's embarrassment, seeing that dominatrix stuff. 

"Sex doesn't alarm me," Sherlock said quickly.

"How would you know?"

Sherlock's eyes widened, and Mycroft seemed to enjoy his discomfort. John smiled into his teacup, licking his lips and taking a hearty sip, feeling rather pleased with himself. 


End file.
